


Journey of a Lifetime

by vancoover



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Accents, Everyone Is Gay, FACE Family, France Being France (Hetalia), Francis has a very heavy French accent, I promise there's no rusame, Injury, M/M, Musical Instruments, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans England (Hetalia), Trans Male Character, alfred and mattie are identical twins, americans hating russians!, but right by canada, prucan and ameripan are future relationship tags, they live in America
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vancoover/pseuds/vancoover
Summary: High school sweethearts Francis and Arthur Kirkland-Bonnefoy have been in love for years, before Arthur had even begun his journey to become the male he always knew he was. After college, travelling the world, and getting their dream jobs, the two have been settled down for a while now and want to embark on a new journey - raising kids. How will the two parents deal with raising kids? What hardships and fights will the family face on the way? While the future can't be predicted, it's safe to say that parenthood, for these two, will be the journey of a lifetime.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just want to note that in the prologue the two have discussed wanting kids for years - just haven't been able to decide how exactly they should have them! Nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy, more is on the way! <3

"I think I've made up my mind," Arthur told his husband, who was sitting down lazily on the couch, watching his favorite French drama. Francis looked at him curiously, lowering the volume on the TV before turning to him.

"It's your decision and your body at ze end of ze day amour, I won't judge your choice one bit."

Arthur muttered an 'I understand' softly. "I think I'll hold off the surgery and get off hormones for a while so we can try for a baby."

Francis' elation was so clearly evident in his eyes, but he wouldn't allow himself to express it to Arthur just yet. "Mon Anglais, are you one hundred percent positive zhat's what you want to do? Please don't feel like you have to just to make me happy, I'll be more zan happy either way. C'est à toi de decider, bèbè," Francis reassured, rubbing his incredible husband's shoulder lightly and lovingly. Arthur nodded and engulfed Francis in a big hug, confirming he was more than willing to do this.

"I love you so much wanker, I hope this works out..."

"Je t'aime aussi mon lapin," Francis told him lovingly. "It won't if we don't start soon." His statement was followed by his classic French wink.

Arthur rolled his eyes as Francis laughed at his reaction. At least he wasn't wrong...

\--

Once Arthur was off hormones and started seeing an OBGYN to help monitor him once a pregnancy had hopefully taken place, he'd become pregnant rather quickly. He had been weirdly craving burnt food, and it would send Francis into a near panic attack watching his husband burn food, being a professional chef himself.

Arthur's work was incredibly understanding of his situation and allowed him to begin working from home once his stomach began to show, which was much bigger than Arthur thought it would grow. He was a financial advisor (and prior part time lead guitarist of a band) so he'd end up spending his entire day sitting down in front of his laptop, jumbling numbers and shitty customers in his head.

Before they knew it, it was the fifth month and they'd decided to have the baby's gender revealed to them during Artie's routine ultrasound. Arthur had been nervous as he hoped his stomach being so large was just him gaining a lot of weight and not something bad happening to his baby.

"Do you want it to be a boy or a girl?" Arthur asked Francis while they were on the drive to the office. Francis couldn't deny how weird it was hearing Arthur's voice sounding so feminine recently. It was still sounded male due to Arthur having done voice therapy, but his hormones helped a lot to deepen it up to what he was happy with as well.

"As long as ze're healthy I zon't care personally. What do you think it iz, maman?"

"I'm a dad bloody frog! Just because I'm having them doesn't make me a mom!" Francis snorted and Arthur humpfed in anger.

"Mon lapin is unable to take a joke apparently."

"I'm this close to divorcing you right now," Arthur told him, pinching his fingers close.

"Oh please, you wouldn't survive a day without my cooking now." Arthur didn't comment further, which satisfied Francis. It meant Arthur had let him win this pretend argument.

-

"Hello Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy, it's been a while!" their doctor, who they just called Yao at this point, smiled happily at the two. They smiled back and shook hands before Arthur was pushing up his giant sweatshirt.

"So that's a boy..." Yao confirmed, and immediately Francis and Arthur's faces were shining with joy. They were having a boy!

"Oh, what is that there?" Yao muttered loud enough for Arthur to hear, and immediately fear shot through his entire body. Nonononono, it can't be...

"Look at that!" Yao shouted excitedly, pointing at a screen. "Two!"

"Two... bebes?" Francis immediately asked. Yao nodded.

"Yup! Other guy is a boy as well. He was hiding in there huh... other one was much easier to see."

Arthur spoke up worriedly. "Are they conjoined and that's why we didn't know? Please don't tell me they're conjoined, at least not badly." Yao looked at the sonogram once more to be sure (though he was fairly certain from the first glance).

"Nope! He was just hiding - nothing to worry over. Now, let's set up the next appointment and you can go on and enjoy the rest of your day." Yao got up and concluded the ultrasound and sent the husbands on their way.

—

"Francisss..." Arthur whined as his husband laid in bed next to him. "Your frog babies are going to be the death of me." Francis kissed his whiny husband's cheek lightly before reaching over for the book he'd been working on recently, taking a sip of red wine.

"Who wanted to have the kids again?"

"Ugh... this whole thing has been making me feel disgusting," Arthur rubbed his eye. "I don't feel like a man anymore."

That tore Francis apart. He knew how much Arthur had gone through in his life to become who he truly was. He was bullied relentlessly back in school for being known as the 'weird' kid. He would be lost in his thoughts every day at school, with his imaginary friends rather than focusing on his work. But that wasn't the only thing he was bullied for.

Before the transition, Arthur was Alice, and he absolutely hated being Alice. As Alice, his parents forced him to dress in long dresses and skirts, grow his hair long, and act like a girl. He wasn't a girl, he was a boy! His parents found out, back when Alice was in kindergarten, that he'd told the whole class he was a boy. The teacher made a phone call to his mom, and nonetheless his mom lectured Alice that no, 'she' wasn't a boy and would never be one.

Arthur had began to come out about his gender at 16 to his brothers, who were all loving and accepting of him. Even Allistor, who was a bloody cunt to him usually, gave him a big hug at the news and reassured he loved his baby brother no matter what. When Arthur came out as trans at 18 to his parents, they were livid. They kicked him out immediately, and Arthur had to call Francis, who was his boyfriend at the time, to ask him guilty to stay with him and his parents for a while.

Francis saved his life. He provided him so much love he didn't think was humanly possible for the Frenchman to give to another human, especially considering how annoying he was the majority of the time. He helped him get off his feet and back up, and now 11 years later they were happily married, Arthur nearly fully transitioned, and living in a gorgeous mansion in upstate New York, bought with the intent to raise a family in. He really did wonder sometimes what would've happened to him if Francis had never moved here from Marseille back in France, or if his own family never left London.

Francis enveloped him in a tight hug, whispering, "You're ze toughest, most manly man in ze world mon amour. You are a man, an incredible man, and in a couple more weeks you'll give us ze greatest gifts we will ever get in our lives. Zen once ze doctor lets you, you'll be able to fully become your true self. I believe in you so much, je t'aime tellement." Francis pressed a warm, loving kiss to Arthur's lips, reassuring him that it was all going to be ok.

And it was more than ok.

Two weeks later, on July second, Arthur was on a hospital bed. Their beautiful babies had come at last.

Arthur named the older identical twin while Francis named the younger. Alfred would be his name, Arthur had decided. Francis had already planned what name he'd wanted weeks prior. Matthew.

And just like that, Alfred and Matthew Kirkland-Bonnefoy were coming home with them, to a gorgeous nursery designed by Francis himself. After being settled into the routine of parenthood, and having been back on hormones once he'd been cleared by his doctor, Arthur finally got his surgery. The one he'd longed for for years.

After making his full recovery and being able to walk comfortably again, he had realized how lucky he really was. He was married to his gorgeous French husband, who he'd loved since he was 14 and began to date at 16, and who had been the first person Arthur came out to when Arthur was 15. FrancisHe had two precious boys that he vowed to give the childhood he never had. He was a homeowner, wealthy, and had a high paying job; whilst his husband owned a successful French restaurant in Buffalo. And most importantly, he was finally confident in himself, his body, and his appearance to the world.

Life was good.


	2. Fault of the Maple Syrup Bottle

Life with the twins was more incredible than they could have ever hoped. The countless nights without sleep spent calming down their babies didn't even bother either of them as much as they thought it would. They just enjoyed the moment, appreciating their boys in their earliest stages. They were now approaching their third birthday - gosh, had it already been so long? - and the parents were overwhelmed but happier than they had ever been in their lives.

Matthew was the sweetest baby, always cuddly and smiled at everyone. He looked just like Francis, his hair the exact same shade of blonde, parting the same way and with the same curl pattern. His eyes were the most unusual yet gorgeous color - . He'd taken a liking to a gigantic white bear they'd purchased for the nursery, much to Alfred's initial dismay, and insisted on carrying it around with him wherever they went. He was clearly Francis's favorite of the two, and Francis spoiled him rotten. 

Alfred was the wild child of the two, and Arthur secretly adored his rebellious nature as it reminded him of his punk phase. Alfred hated not sleeping on his own terms, he threw his food on the floor every fucking time, and he was incredibly clingy and nosy. Whenever Francis and he were having a talk about finances or the news, without fail Alfred would crawl into the kitchen and hit Arthur's leg repeatedly. It was aggravating especially when Arthur was trying to get work done. Despite this - and Arthur would never admit it - he did adore Alfred slightly more than Mattie.

Along with the topic of spoiling the kids, Francis would aggravate Arthur a lot by insisting to dress the twins as though they were dolls, spending a pretty penny to keep up with the boys' growing bodies. Arthur tried telling him to cut down a tad on the spending once, but Francis would have none of it.

"Don't you think it's a bit excessive? They don't need new bloody clothes every week babe." Arthur had told him once while he was feeding Alfred a bottle of baby formula, and Francis was making dinner.

"Non! Mes garçons will only 'ave and look ze best! We 'ave ze money for it anyway." Francis shot back immediately, taking a break from his steady stirring of a pot of soup on the stove.

Arthur had sighed, finishing burping Alfred and going on to feed Matthew. "Can you just cut it down a little bit? We're running out of space in the nursery from all the clothes."

Francis glared at him coldly, his gaze softening once he'd seen the babies on Arthur's lap. "Fine, I will consider."

He'd ended up cutting the clothes shopping from every week to every three weeks. It was still too much in Arthur's opinion, but considering Francis' French background it was major improvement.

Francis and Arthur both managed to change their work schedule in order to take care of the kids full time. Francis ended up hiring a co-manager to take care of the restaurant during certain days of the week and times of the day. The restaurant was doing better than ever before so Francis was fine with the additional cost, especially considering how it was in exchange for time with his babies, which was priceless.

As the twins began to pick up on language, Francis had attempted to reach both of them his mother tongue - French. Alfred had gotten bored halfway through the first lesson, too preoccupied with his alien toy to care about basic French vocabulary. Matthew, on the other hand, was more than willing to learn the language and had begun to beg Francis everyday to teach him more - how could he possibly say no to that? Matthew had begun to practice his French around his father as often as he could, too.

“Bonjour Matthieu!” Francis had greeted his son as usual as the boy walked into the kitchen, lugging his teddy bear with him.

“Bonjour papa, comment ça va?” Matthew mustered up the courage to say that day, and Francis couldn’t have been more proud of his son.

“Bon travail Matthieu! Ça va bien, merci,” Francis replied in return, giving his son both a hug and a plate of his favorite - pancakes. “Where is your brother?”

“Alfie’s still sleeping. What does bon travail mean, papa?” Matthew asked as he got onto a chair and put his plate down on the table.

“It means good job, mon lapin, I’m so proud of ‘ow good you are doing in Français with me!” Matthew smiled proudly at this. “I’ll be right back, your brother needs to ztop waking up so late,” Francis said with a sigh as he turned off the stove. Matthew’s smile faded as his father rushed out of the kitchen for his twin. 

“Kumama, he didn’t give me syrup! ‘ow will I eat these pancakes without syrup?” Matthew asked his stuffed teddy bear as he wandered the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the glass bottle on the counter.

“Oooh, there it is!” Matthew said once he spotted the bottle. He stood on his tippy toes, and at the exact moment he was about to get the bottle, his dad walked in.

“Good morning lad! How are you?” His father asked him as he walked over to the coffee pot and started up the machine.

On any other day this wouldn’t have affected him - it was just his dad. But the adrenaline rushing through his body caused by trying to get the syrup followed by the fact that he was on his tippy toes and barely supporting his body off the ground and his father just suddenly coming in was too much combined, and Matthew slipped, the bottle falling out of his hand. 

Arthur’s eyes widened as he saw his son fall to the ground, and he rushed from the other side of the kitchen to make sure he was ok. The maple syrup bottle had been destroyed and there were glass shards all over the kitchen, and some stuck in Matthew’s limbs and feet. He started to bawl from both pain and embarrassment, curling up and crying into his teddy bear. At least Kuma hadn’t been ruined by him or the syrup bottle, right?

“No! Matthew!” Arthur yelled, picking the boy and the teddy bear off the ground immediately, rushing to help him and get the glass out of his skin. “FRANCIS! COME DOWN HERE!” Arthur screamed loud enough to be heard on the second floor where Francis was.

“I’m sorry!” Matthew wailed as he continued to cry into his bear. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”

“I’m not mad at you Matthew, I just don’t want you to be hurt, that’s all,” Arthur reassured his son, running his fingers through his hair to calm him down. Francis came rushing down the steps with a still sleeping Alfred in his arms. Matthew could feel the blood continuing to drip from his feet and he just hoped he wasn’t ruining the furniture.

Seeing one of his sons bloodied up was enough to send Francis into tears. “Take your zon.” Francis handed Alfred off to Arthur. “Matthieu, how bad does it hurt? Where does it hurt?”

“My feet and here...” Matthew pointed at his ankles. “It hurts really really bad, I’m sorry!” Francis shushed him and gave him a hug. 

“It’s ok mon lapin,” Francis told him. “Anglais, do you think ‘e needs to go to ze ‘ospital?” Just the word hospital was enough to make Matthew curl up and shudder in fear.

“Better safe than sorry, let’s get in the car. Hospital is ten minutes away.” The family rushed to the car, Francis holding Matthew so the glass didn’t get any deeper into his skin than it already was.

“You drive, I’ll stay in ze back and make sure ‘e doesn’t get worse.” Arthur nodded, buckling Alfred into his seat before going to the driver’s.

—

“Hi Mr. and Mr. Kirkland-Bonnefoy. Matthew is doing fine, we got the majority of the glass shards out of his skin. A few have to be left in because it’ll cause more damage to the tissue to take them out than to leave them in as they’re so tiny, but those should be fine. We stitched a few areas up, a couple more to go and he’ll be ready to leave,” a doctor that neither of them could quite catch his name had told the two. They thanked the sweet doctor, who allowed them into the room to see Matthew.

Alfred had long since woken up, and cried when his dads told him that Mattie had gotten hurt. Alfred thought he was in the hospital because his big brother didn’t protect him from getting hurt, and promised to protect Mattie better from now on. 

“Mattie? Are you ok?” Alfred climbed on the hospital bed to hug his twin, who accepted the hug and smiled. 

“It hurts a little bit but they helped me a lot. I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time, daddy and papa.” Francis told Matthew, once again, that it wasn’t his fault, and that they weren’t mad at him in anyway. Alfred told his twin that he’d be his hero from now on, and high-fived Matthew.

Internally, the weird pronunciation of the word ‘sorry’ was throwing Arthur off slightly, and he’d noticed it the more and more Matthew said it. Was that a Canadian accent forming on an American boy?

—

Later, the doctor came in once more to wrap Matthew’s feet in some bandages. He provided the parents with a prescription for a special antiseptic to clean the wounds with daily, alongside some gauze tape and bandages. They left the hospital, got the supplies, and returned home to a kitchen that had been cleaned by Arthur while Francis and Alfred had waited in the hospital. Francis insisted, but Arthur felt really guilty for not saving his son in time. Now he was in pain because of his delayed reaction timing.

At last, after what felt like a year of Alfred complaining that he was hungry, the family got to sit down and eat breakfast at 1 pm.

They may have had to stay in the hospital for two hours, but they still got those pancakes in the end.

Oh, and Francis made sure to buy the plastic bottles from then on.


	3. Music Time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer than the typical pace! Please enjoy :)

"C'mon lads, it's time for the family meeting!" Arthur told the twins, now 8 years old and in school, as they played football outside. It was a beautiful sunny day, and Arthur hated to interrupt their playtime, but it was a rule in the house that whenever one person (in this case Francis) declared a meeting, the meeting had to happen with all four members. In this case, Arthur already knew what Francis would tell the kids, and it was super important for them.

Alfred pouted, and kicked the white and black ball to Matthew one last time, the twins following their dad inside the house. Arthur led them to the living room, where Francis was on the couch, holding a couple of papers. The twins sat down on the couch, having no idea what to expect.

"Alfred, Matthieu, your father and I 'ave discussed zis and 'e agreed that you two should learn an instrument. You can choose which one you want to play but you must play for at least a year. Zese papers 'ave a list instruments zat your father and I want you to pick from." Francis gave each twin a paper with names of different instruments on them. "You can look up ze instruments on ze computer to see 'ow zey sound. When you two make up your minds, come down and tell us what you've picked."

Neither twin seemed to be opposed to the idea of playing an instrument, and they started reading list of instruments their dad had given them. Saxophone, clarinet, violin, flute, piano, oboe, trumpet, trombone, euphonium, and cello were the instruments on the list. Arthur had wanted to add guitar on there, but Francis firmly rejected the idea, saying he wasn't going to have one of his 8 year olds become a mini version of their father as a punk.

Matthew leaped off the couch and to the family computer in the other room, pretty sure he'd made his decision. The video confirmed it, and he went back to the living room to wait for Alfred to make his decision too. 10 minutes later, the ordeal was done and both twins had their instruments of choice picked out.

"So, mes garçons, which instruments 'ave you chosen?"

"I wanna play trumpet! It sounds so cool," Alfred shouted gleefully, clearly excited about his instrument.

"Very well. And you, Matthieu?"

Matthew pulled himself out of the daydream he'd been having and back to reality. "Oh... I wanted to do flute."

Francis nodded, clasping his hands together. "I'll get you boys group lessons for your instruments, so you can be around other people that play ze instruments. It'll make it easier for you to learn."

Both twins nodded and thanked their parents before being told it was bedtime. Alfred frowned and begged to stay up, meanwhile Matthew was more than happy to fall asleep as he'd been insanely tired that day. Francis had noticed, and while tucking Matthew into bed told him to feel better soon.

"Merci papa," Matthew replied sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "Je t'aime."

Francis hugged both him and his twin who was still pouting about going to bed, and turned off the light before closing the door.

Francis found his husband sitting in their bedroom, reading a book. He sat next to him, kissing his cheek lightly. Arthur blushed slightly, but ignored him and continued reading his book.

"It's been a while, don't you zink mon amour?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed his book on the nightstand. "It's been two days."

"Two days too long," Francis wrapped his arms around Arthur, snuggling his head into the Brit's shoulder.

You're a sex addict."

"I just love you zat much," Francis said with his classic French wink, sucking on Arthur's neck to cause him to moan beautifully.

"Love you too, so turn off your lamp first."

"Uptight Brit."

—

After the ten minute drive to the music lesson center, figuring their way around the place, and hugging the kids, Arthur told the two, "Good luck boys! Your father and I will be in the lobby to make sure you two are safe. Make some new friends, ok?" The boys nodded and ran off, Alfred and Matthew splitting off for the lessons intended for their instruments. 

As Matthew entered the flute room, a blonde haired woman greeted him excitedly, handing him a practice book and telling him where to sit. Matthew nodded shyly, and ran to his seat, which was next to an extremely pale boy with almost white hair, and bright red eyes. He'd accidentally bumped his flute into the boy, startling him and making Matthew curl up in fear. The boy was clearly at least three years older than him, and not to be mean of course but he looked scary!

"I'm sorry..." Matthew whispered meekly, turning his head immediately as he was scared of the boy's reaction.

"No vorries, it is ok, ja? Vhat's your name?" The silver-haired boy asked immediately, with a slight smile on his face - or maybe that was a smirk?

"I'm Matthew. Matthew Kirkland-Bonnefoy." His voice was still extremely soft, not so much in fear as it was utter embarrassment. 

The boy glanced at the teacher, who was still at the door awaiting students. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm a pretty awesome flute player. Is this your first day here? I haven't seen you around before." Matthew nodded in response. The boy talked so much!

"That's so awesome! Flute is the best. I'm in advanced because I have been playing for a while so ze teacher invited me to help some of jou newbies out. I guess I'm your helper, so if jou need any help I'm here."

Matthew smiled brightly at the boy. He reminded him a lot of Alfred, and he was used to being around those kind of people enough to not mind his presence, whereas most people would have thought Gilbert was plain annoying. "Thank you Gilbert. I'll probably end up asking about a lot."

"No problem!" His voice immediately lowered to a whisper when he saw the teacher go pick up her flute and screw off the headjoint. "She'll get mad if I talk anymore. Just whisper when you need me and I'll -"

"Gilbert! How many times do I have to tell you to stop talking?"

Matthew laughed quietly. This Gilbert was kinda cool. 

\--

Alfred entered the trumpet room with one mandatory goal for himself - he was going to be the best trumpet player the world had ever seen! He wouldn't allow himself to be anything but that. The trumpet teacher pointed at a seat by a tall, pale blonde boy with a gigantic scarf on after handing him a book.

Alfred took a seat and began eyeballing how to put the trumpet together, partially from the book's instructions and partially from common sense. The boy sitting next to him smiled, saying "Ah, the little one is cocky on his first day here, da? You'll jam the valves if you keep pressing down that hard on them." That accent... it was so...

Russian.

"I can figure out how to put a trumpet together on my own, I don't need help for that."

The boy laughed. "Typical American."

From that day on, Alfred hated that boy. He didn't even really bother him that much during trumpet class or school but his hatred for Russians overtook him every time he looked at the boy, who he later found out was named Ivan. Gross. Russians were gross.

Hey, at least the teacher was impressed with his trumpet playing, right?

\--

The boys rushed out to greet their fathers, who had been absentmindedly waiting in the lobby.

"Hi!" they shouted in unison - twin telepathy acting up at the strangest times - and greeted their fathers with hugs.

"How were the lessons guys?" Arthur asked them on the way to the car.

"It was good," Matthew said, being the first to speak for once. "I found a new friend."

"That's great!" Arthur ruffled his hair before turning to Alfred, who had clearly looked more upset than his twin the whole time. "And what about you? You don't like the instrument or the teacher?"

"No. They're fine. This stupid kid was being mean to me the whole time!" 

"Now, now Alfred, it's not nice to call someone stupid. How was he being mean to you?"

"He kept saying things to make me feel dumb... and he called me a stupid American! That's not true right?" The family had managed to get into the car and his dad began to drive, while his papa spoke to him.

"Well, you are an American, but you aren't stupid mon chou. Zat boy is a bully, please tell us if he keeps bothering you, ok?"

"I will... stupid dumb Russian."

"ALFRED!"


End file.
